Wait Here
by Kerboku
Summary: Marcurio didn't really mind. He just missed her to be honest. Rating may go up. Fem!Imperial!DragonbornxMarcurio


Marcurio was cold. Cold and alone.

His love had left him out on Dragon's Bridge, chasing down a headless specter of course. He kicked a pebble as he tucked his frozen hands into his armpits. He sighed and shivered and stared.

He waited impatiently, Four Shields was only so far away, but if she returned then she'd wonder where he went off to.

He stood on the bridge for three hours now.

He pulled his hood tighter. The gold encrusted thalmor robes were thin and airy as the night rolled over. His eye lids grew heavy as he warmed his hands and body with the powers of the arcane.

"Don't make me wait too long, I get bored easily!" The words he spoke hours ago were only a shadow of regret on his mind, she didn't even look back. He should have said something different, anything, and he knew that she would have stayed.

Warmed him with her own kind of magic.

He shuffled his feet. Guards patrolled by, casting him a glance now and then, but never saying a word. His eyes finally closed as another gust of wind buffed him slightly and he pictured their home. A cozy little hamlet in Whiterun, where the fire kept the entire house warm and comfortable. He pictured Lydia sitting in her usual spot, silently eating and reading one of the many books in their home. Thinking of their bedroom he shivered, the bed was always warm, though she hardly slept in it. Or so he thought, until one night, after weeks of not seeing his wife he awoke to the sudden warmth of the Dragonborn beside him.

He watched her sleep that night, brushing the short raven black hair from her face, he kissed her and spoke to her, telling her all of the things he was too proud to tell her while she was awake.

She slept for twelve hours, and that was how long he lay nestled beside her. When she awoke, her husband was asleep, a slight smile on his face. She kissed him, then left. She was starved for his blood, but refused to feed. Another week would pass before she would return to Whiterun, no longer suffering from a different kind of blood lust. Another week would pass before Marcurio would leave his home, out of either shame or embarrassment was up for debate.

But time and time again he waited. Whether it be for minutes, hours, days, or months he waited.

He opened his eyes partway as the sun began to rise, he heard a familiar gallop of hooves.

Shadowmare was quicker and stronger than any other average horse in Skyrim. Then again, his wife was the same way. She neared the bridge, her black and red armor signing warning to all who face her in combat. Her eyes, blue and brighter then the borealis that painted the night sky, a symbol of death itself.

The armor he loved ripping off.

The eyes he could get lost in.

She rode up to him and stared him down, the cowl on her face covering her nose and mouth and true emotions.

She dismounted and approached him, tugging on not only Shadowmare's reigns but on Marcurio's own heart strings. She slid her mask down slightly, revealing the red, scar like war paint on her left cheek and soft pale flesh only reveled to some, she smiled at him.

"I trust I hadn't kept you waiting too long?"

"Let's just get going."

Her lips spoke of being led by a headless horsemen as they linked arms and sauntered to the tavern. Marcurio didn't seem to listen. He was only marveling at how he somehow, though sheer luck or divine intervention, managed to be married to not only the Dragonborn, but a highly revered and respected Companion, the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, the Master of the Thieves Guild, and the most beautiful woman in all of Tamriel.

She tied her horse to a post and led him into the tavern. Her eyelids dark unlike her unnatural pale skin. Though she was an imperial through and through, she didn't look it. And the only one that seemed to mind was Marcurio's own mother. She paid for a room and collapsed in the bed.

"You shouldn't wear your armor in bed my love." He removed his own cold stained robes and laid them out on a chair. She whined slightly and sat up as he removed her boots for her. He kissed every scrape and cut on her legs before pulling off her hood and cowl. She moaned and shivered as he massaged her hair and scalp, "Marc, it's too cold and I am beyond tired love." He tugged at her chest plate before pulling it off leaving her in only her tunic and small clothes. She whined and covered herself in the furs thrown about on the bed. He removed his own tunic and pants before he crawled into the space beside her. She blinked, exhaustion and confusion setting in as her husband made no further moves to seduce her. Puzzled and slightly agitated she waited for him to continue, though he never did. "Marc?" She uttered lightly, he responded by wrapping his arms around her bare waist. She smiled and stroked his hair.

Settling beside him it was her turn to watch as he slept.

Dreaming about their home, and their future, of the children he swore she would bear one day, and of a time in Skyrim where they sky didn't rain dragons and wars.

She kissed his hair and then settled her face near inches from his. Noses almost touching.


End file.
